


Ashes, Ashes

by mikachan



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: 2CT, Angst, Cannon, Cannonverse, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Oneshot, Processing, Spoilers, in light of recent updates..., spillingashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 14:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikachan/pseuds/mikachan
Summary: He knows who he is, and yet he does not.





	Ashes, Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> 2CT drabble, basically me trying to fill in the blanks of our ciel. it's really sad - be warned.

“Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies!” Ciel grabs his hands, spins him in circles. “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!” A smile beams, soft grass stains the bottoms of pristine, white cotton shorts. He giggles, beaming back at his smiling brother. A sharp pain stings at his knee. He looks down; blood smeared across pale, milky skin.

Ciel bristles, “oh no!” he reaches for his brother, protectively gripping the back of his shin to examine the small scrape. “I’m sorry,” he says, eyes glittering as he helps the smaller up. The boy just nods, smiles again.

Sometimes they like to believe their Father cannot tell them apart. He can, of course, by the way one of them seems to shrink and hide when confronted. He is sheepish, unwell. “My, my… I wonder where my little boys have gone?” Vincent feigns confusion, smiling softly at the small sets of feet peeking out from under the curtain. Ciel laughs. The other hides behind him, a shy smile nervously gracing his lips.

He hears them one night, talking silently in their Father’s study. He had come to wake Ciel, and the other boy had pretended he was fast asleep. He seemed to always be pretending. “Ciel,” Vincent says, voice muffled from behind the door, “you are the older, stronger boy. You must take responsibility as the heir of Phantomhive, you understand me? Your brother is small and weak, he needs protecting.” 

That was all the boy needed to hear before he runs off quickly, burying himself back under his own covers… tears welling silently in his eyes. It had always been like this. They hid it from him for some time, until the subject of who would be their Father’s successor could not be avoided any longer. When the discussion arose, the boy only nodded… smiling, as he always did. 

He couldn’t bear to resent his brother, nor his Father. He instead whittled doubt within himself as he watched Ciel and Elizabeth play, running around the grounds as he once did. He stuck by his Father’s side, hiding beneath waistcoat… his pant leg. “Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies!” Elizabeth beams back at his brother, giggling. Dewed grass stains her pure, white petticoat. 

“I’m scared.” his voice is weak, and he clings to his brother, face hidden in the crook of his neck, blood staining the pale, milky skin of their knees. The door opens, and it is never a good sign, but now he is shaking in fear, shaking with guilt. He grabs ahold of the steel bars in front of them as the strange beasts in the masks observe each cage in turn, boots clacking across the hard, stone floor. 

A warm, assuring hand dares to comfort his own. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here,” Ciel whispers, “I promised Father I would protect you.” The frightened boy nods, trying his hardest to smile. Ciel begins to hum, and it is the same song they always sing. His voice is too rough and hoarse with dehydration to sing the words, but the younger hears them just the same. It comforts him for awhile. 

Then there is a man standing at the edge of their cage, and the young child grasps at Ciel, fists twisting in the blood-stained white of his shirt. He doesn’t stop humming, only strokes his hair softly, pulls him a little closer. “It’s this one.” The man points at Ciel, and yet he still doesn’t move, still doesn’t quiet. It is only when they open the cage and the smaller boy begins to struggle that his voice is wretched from him. He can tell that they are both scared, now, and it frightens him further. They pull him away, and the boy grabs at the air, grabs at the arms holding him down. His brother screams, a hand reaching out to him. “Ciel!”

There is an unbearable red, an unbearable silence, and then it is black. It is so black that the boy in the cage can taste it, can feel it all around him; pushing. It steps out from the center of the room and roars with delight. A hand reaches towards him and he grasps it firmly, looking up at the thing with a face sticky with tears and sweat and blood. He does not know what else to do.

“What is your name?” The thing asks him, and suddenly it doesn’t feel right on his tongue. He says it, and it doesn’t seem as though it fits anymore. Half of him is gone, and there is no future where there is just him. He wishes he could have protected his brother the way he had protected him. He wishes he could have been more brave, more happy and full of life.

“Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive,” he finally settles upon it, and a heavy weight drops into his chest… into his stomach. He pretends again, just as he always does, until there seems to be nothing left of him. He knows who he is, and yet he does not. The thing above him chuckles, and he can see fangs glinting back at him from the shadows. Red eyes flare and swim with desire. “Very well, my little lord,” it replies, and there are ashes, ashes. It all falls down.


End file.
